Unspoken Words
by ScarletCuteTiger
Summary: The Colas have to write down anything that's troubling them. And you'd be surprised what troubles the Children Of Limitless Ability.
1. Prologue

**This was a little flash of inspiration I had. I think schools should do things like this.**

* * *

"So just coz some of the teachers think we don't have a way of letting out our feelings we have to write them on a piece of paper and post it in a box?"

"Yes" Owen replied to Lisa's question.

"A box labelled 'Unspoken Words'?" Dax joined in the attack.

The Cola's had all been more than a little sceptical when Owen and Tyrone had told them about Mrs Sartre's latest idea. They thought it was a bad idea especially since Owen would be reading the entries, and passing them on if it was anything to be concerned about.

"Yes" Owen and Tyrone said in unison. This was becoming an example of don't shoot the messenger(s).

"Can it be anonymous?" Spook Williams of all people asked.

"Yes, it can, though it may not be hard for me to work out who wrote it" Owen replied reasonably.

"But will you purposely try to find out who it was?" Gideon demanded. Owen sighed.

"No Gideon, he won't" Ty answered for him. Here Luke signed something to Gideon.

Gideon spoke up "Luke wants to know who you would pass it on to if it was worrying you?"

"Whoever it is necessary to pass it on to, and be warned in some cases it might be another student" Owen warned them. A chorus of "That's not fair!" followed that statement, to which Owen just shrugged and left the room. After a pause Tyrone went after him. This is going to be interesting, Owen mused, I wonder who'll be first?

* * *

**This is either going to be a success  
or  
a disaster.  
then again you never know with the Colas  
Let me know what you think of the idea.  
****Lizzie  
xxx **


	2. Spook's unspoken words  Part 1

**Summary: Spook reflects on why he's such an idiot. Spook's POV.  
Okay so I wanted to put myself in his mind because I find it quite interesting, most of this is made up but in the books he does have siblings called Emma and Oliver though I'm not sure whether they're step or half. **

* * *

Do they actually realise how much it hurts? When they call me the 'Glitter-boy'. Obviously not.

I would tell someone but of course then there's the issue of me being 'big headed' and having a massive ego. It's not my fault, it makes me feel in control to act so arrogant, to expect people to want to please me. That's just how I deal with it.

The fact that my dad doesn't even want me. That he would rather just have Ollie and Emma and Milly. He just wishes I was never born, or that I died with my mother.

I guess it must have been hard for him towards the end. To have to watch his wife slowly dying, fading with each day that passed. Losing the love of his life. Not to mention looking after the difficult three year old who wanted to know why his mummy wasn't coming home, and then not being able to tell him because he didn't know himself.

None of them did. Not one of the doctors could diagnose her.

But that's no reason for neglecting your child. He didn't neglect me completely, he paid for the nannies and baby sitters, not that many of them stayed around. Their employers temper often scared them off, that or the vicious flame haired boy they were supposed to look after.

By then I had decided I would have to be tough and act like I don't care, when secretly I cried myself to sleep every night until I was eleven. Pretty pathetic, I know. All I ever wanted was to feel my mother's arms around me again, have her tell me that everything was all right, let her rock me to sleep, feel her love.

one thing I've never had since my mother died.

A couple of years later,when I was about six, Milly appeared. So my dad had a girlfriend. She acted like she was my mother, but even my six year old mind knew that she wasn't. I was a brat to her at first. I remember I actually used to attack her if she so much as touched me, by the time three months had passed my signature move was to let her think she was allowed to hug me and then bite her. Hard. To be honest I'm surprised that she didn't leave dad because of me. Dad had to watch all this knowing that it was his fault.

Served him right.

But Milly stayed and about six months later she became my step-mum, and that's when dad put his foot down and told me I had to stop attacking her or he would send me to live my aunt. Harsh, but it worked. Seven months later and Milly was pregnant with Oliver. I hated it when he was born, everyone was all over him and I was practically forgotten about. He was so noisy! Of course by then I had discovered the joys of horse riding.

My pony, Edward,was the best thing my dad ever did for me. After he got remarried he decided to teach me responsibility, so he brought me a horse and hired an instructor to teach me how to ride and look after him. By the time Oliver was born I was eight and I often went out riding on my own. Mr. Merryweather – my instructor – said I have natural talent for riding and that it was obvious that me and Edward loved each other. Sometimes I didn't even ride him, I just went and groomed him. It always used to cheer me up being with Edward, he always seemed to be able to tell when something was wrong.

And it usually was.

I actually started to like Oliver when he learned to sleep through the night and not wake us up with his screaming. Then when I was ten and Ollie was two, Milly was pregnant with Emma. I was really upset for a couple of weeks when I found out about that. Once Emma was born I started to retreat back to Edward again. Ollie must have noticed that I wasn't around to play with him as much because he often followed me out and watched me while I groomed Edward. I didn't mind this because Ollie was a quiet kid and knew how he felt about the new baby getting all the attention.

Then not long after my eleventh birthday I realised I could do something weird.

And that's when Owen Hind showed up...

* * *

**So there you have it, how Spook really feels.  
****Arrie  
****xxx  
Ps: this will be continued **


End file.
